Far Past Broken
by Hawiian Girl
Summary: She wishes she could care about his heart, but all they want is to forget for a while. FelicityKartik, onesided GemmaKartik. Oneshot. Bittersweet. Companion to 'Learning to Forget'.


A/N: Here's another Felicity/Kartik, with some angsty Gemma/Kartik thrown in for fun. I can't help liking this pairing a lot. Strange, I know.

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.

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Felicity doesn't bother getting dressed anymore.

The first few times, she had pulled on her chemise immediately, not wanting Kartik to see her naked after they were done. Then, she found that he wasn't looking. So now they sprawl naked in the clearing, staring up at the stars, and he teaches her the Indian names for the constellations. The Hindi language feels as strange on her tongue as the boy himself did, intoxicating and new. Tonight, though, they aren't talking.

She doesn't know if the silence is because all the stars have been named, or if there is some other reason. She doesn't particularly care. It's peaceful, and the lightning bugs glow around them like fairies.

Felicity traces designs on Kartik's broad chest, writing her name in beautiful calligraphy that leaves no mark. In some strange way, he _is_ hers, even though his heart belongs to Gemma. That reminds her…

"I won't be able to come here for a week. Gemma and Simon are getting married, and I am in the wedding. Such a shame you can't attend." She is using the words as she would an arrow, seeing if he will flinch.

He doesn't. She is disappointed, somewhat. She buries her face in his neck and sighs, inhaling a smell that is unique to him. She could search for a thousand years and never find it again, but she has yet to separate the fragrances. If she does, she knows the smell would loose its wonder.

"How will you be able to marry? I've ruined you," he remarks, unrepentant. He doesn't feel badly about it anymore, she quashed that chivalrous instinct the first time.

_Ruined_. The word is familiar, something her mother tosses at her often enough. What she had done to the family, what her soul was… "I was already ruined, Kartik. You couldn't make it much worse." But he could, actually. If she fell pregnant, it would be much worse. They are careful; she uses the magic to make sure she is not. She never wants children, after all.

For the first time in the conversation, he turns towards her. Felicity fixes her gray eyes on him, daring him to ask. He doesn't disappoint again that night.

"Who?" The question seems innocent enough, surely something that lovers could ask each other. But then, Felicity muses, love would actually have to be involved in what they did. Their only purpose was to help the other forget. There is no word for what they are.

"My father," she admits aloud for the first time. He's dead; a cool voice in her head reminds her. You killed him. A carriage accident right after you came back from the realms to find Little Polly sobbing and bleeding. Curious, no?

Kartik is silent for a moment. Felicity sees it on his face, waits for the taunts that her mother and her own mind voice all the time _(Whore, slut, tramp, you evil horrible girl, it's your fault he doesn't love me anymore)_. Instead, he says, "There was a man in the Rakshana… one of my teachers. He used to touch me. When my brother found out, he went to the high masters. My teacher was killed."

Felicity grins, but there is no mirth or warmth in the gesture. "I came home and found my cousin's bed covered in blood. He was dead within the hour. I wasn't going to let it happen to her."

"You must love her a great deal," Kartik says. His dark eyes are haunted. Felicity knew he had shadows in his past, but hadn't expected them to parallel her own.

He would kill for Gemma, still. He loves her enough. Felicity knows he wouldn't kill for her unless he thought her death would hurt Gemma. Polly's death wouldn't affect Felicity much. She would be sorry, of course, and would genuinely mourn for a while, but she would forget the child had ever existed within a year.

Felicity snorts in contempt. "I care nothing for her. But anything that can make you wake up screaming from a nightmare after you have been as strong as I have shouldn't happen to anyone." She is quiet for a moment. "I still loved him. Even after everything he did to me. Does that make me a horrible person?"

"Gemma is to be married next week, and I am still poisoned with her." A pause. "And I am using you. If you are horrible for wishing your father was better than he was, what does that make me?" Kartik asks.

"Gemma will never be like us. Anything that is broken in her life, she has the power to make whole again." Not Pippa, that inner voice says. She couldn't fix the one person who ever mattered to you. Felicity ignores it. Pippa is gone. She took part of Felicity's soul with her. Besides, Ann and Gemma matter now. But she isn't giving her soul to anyone ever again.

"Don't fool yourself, Felicity." Kartik's voice is full of scorn. "We are both far past broken. There's nothing left to fix."

She doesn't reply, only gazes up at the sky again, and uses the last of her magic to ensure their clearing is hidden for the time being. It is the one place where she doesn't have to be strong. He doesn't care about what she is or what she does, and that freedom is comforting. That doesn't mean she isn't afraid of someone stumbling across them one night.

"I can't remember what it was to be whole," she says. Luckily, he knows what she means, and then it's lucky she doesn't get dressed anymore, because corsets are such a bother when all she wants is to pretend for a little while.

All she wants is for him to fix her, even though he's as shattered as her. Some part of her wishes she could care about his heart, but she can't.

Besides, it's far past broken already.

_Fin_

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A/N: Seriously, what's up with my fascination of this pairing? I'm pretty much the only one who likes it. By the way, you should check out the Indian astrology mentioned in the beginning, it's really interesting. I'm not entirely sure how old it is, though. It might not have existed in Victorian times. Now, tell me how much you dislike (or by some odd chance, adore) the pairing in a

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